Logan is a state trooper in hot pursuit of a little red sports car. What will happen when he finally catches up with it? AN: Series of drabbles. Been away for a while and trying to get my feet wet again.

It had been a long day on the miles of interstate Logan patrolled on his motorcycle. Besides the usual traffic violators there was a low-level drug smuggler that took up most of the day. However a multiple car accident is what coveted the last three hours of his shift. Some kid texting and driving caused three adults and a toddler to be taken by ambulance to the nearest hospital, nothing serious, a couple of broken bones and abrasions. The kid was lucky he'd only received a small knot on the back of his head from one of the many objects cluttering his car. "Idiot," Logan muttered. All he wanted to do now was get home, put his feet up and crack open a cold beer and not think about his job. He'd be on leave in a few days and couldn't wait for his six weeks off.

Being a state trooper had its perks, free donuts and coffee in shops, not to mention the uniform attracted women...not that he was looking. But it also had its pitfalls. It never failed and today was no exception. Drivers slowed to a crawl when they saw him in their rearview mirror. The driver ahead of him insisted on riding his breaks. "Get the fuck outta the…" Logan began to curse but his words died on his lips when a car approaching on the opposite side of the interstate caught his attention, a little red sports car noticeably exceeding the speed limit.

"Shit…" he cursed. He knew that car very well. The first time he'd pulled the car over he knew trouble was behind the wheel. The second time he pulled it over he realized that he was the one in trouble. "Here we go, darlin'."

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